


These Are Dark Days

by icebluecyanide



Category: The Originals (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Episode: s03e09 Savior, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-11 12:02:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8978926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icebluecyanide/pseuds/icebluecyanide
Summary: Cami makes one last attempt to save herself. As always, there are complications. 3x09 AU.





	1. the courage of the fragile fighter

**Author's Note:**

> AU from 3x09. Fic includes descriptions of forced suicide, psychological horror, etc. Mostly canon-typical violence.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cami makes one last attempt to save herself.

 

She hasn't dreamt of Klaus like this in months, but she does again tonight, on the evening before the Christmas party.

In these dreams she's always running, afraid to look behind her, knowing instinctively that there's something there. She doesn't mean to turn her head but it does. She comes to a stop even when her heart is beating in her ears and she can feel the rush on blood pumping through her body and her head turns. She feels dizzy, a weightless feeling in her head like when she gets up too fast in the morning and has to lie down for the nausea to pass.

There's no nausea now, however, and instead her insides feel cold, her skin is feverish and her head too light as her eyes lock onto his and she's lost.

He says something, his lips moving and and she can almost feel the sound reaching her ears but for some reason it's just that, a dull sound, a beating on her eardrums that she can't seem to translate. His eyes are still staring at her, no, staring _into_ her, but she's not afraid even though she knows she should be. She only realises she's crying when his hand – so much warmer than she expected – comes up to wipe away her tears.

 

 

 

She startles awake covered in cold sweat in Hayley's old bedroom at the compound. Breathing in slowly and deliberately she tries to slow her heartbeat down again.

She hesitates to diagnose herself but even she can't deny the signs of post-traumatic stress disorder she's displaying these days. Nightmares, flashes of memory so clear it feels as though Lucien might step away behind one of the doors in the compound and threaten her again at any moment. Nightmares of compulsion, no doubt influenced by her time as Lucien's prisoner and Aurora's human toy. She'd known she wasn't immune to compulsion from the moment Aurora snatched her. As such, she'd spent most of the day worried not just about the capricious vampire deciding to kill her, but that she might lock eyes with her and do something much worse.

Yet tonight she didn't dream of Lucien, nor of Aurora. Those months she spent under Klaus' compulsion still linger in her memory, even with their current friendship and the way Klaus has so kindly offered her a place in his home and gives her the space she needed these past few days. She doesn't trust him or care for him any less, but this isn't something she'll ever forget.

Why she dreams of it now is a mystery and not one she can explain. She feels safe around Klaus, safer than she does anywhere else these days. She knows he would never compel her again unless she specifically asked him to and yet something about it is clearly bothering her. Perhaps it's the fear of being compelled that triggered the dreams and that's all they are. Just bad dreams.

As she finally calms down and turns over her pillow before laying her head down again she repeats the words to herself. _Just bad dreams_.

It's only later that she wonders if her subconscious had been trying to warn her that she was forgetting something.

 

 

 

The Christmas party at the compound is warm and mostly happy in a way that her Christmas hasn't been in years. Not since she was a girl and her parents were more present. Certainly not since Sean died. The family accepts her as one of their own and Cami finds her chest warming at the notion. Even Rebekah having to leave earlier and her farewells to her siblings and Hayley cannot take this warmth away from her.

Later on the balcony, Klaus kisses her and with laughter still in her throat she thinks that if this counts as a Christmas present it's the best one she's ever received.

She's forgotten all about her dream from that morning by now, her entire mind focused on exploring this new intimacy as her kissing with Klaus leads them to the bedroom. With every touch of his lips her heart beats faster in her chest, like a drum beat pounding on.

There's something at the back of her mind, crying for her attention. Something she's forgetting, something that's now trying to make itself known again. There's a pressure building in her chest like something is about to break.

Klaus' eyes are soft as they look at her and with her hand touching the skin above his heart she can feel each beat of his heart matching hers. For one short moment she she almost believes this could last forever.

 

 

 

She realises what is going on the moment she looks at Klaus' sleeping face, not three inches from her own, and feels an unrelenting urge to kill herself.

Oh, she thinks, remembering her nightmare. _Oh._

 

 

 

This is her last act of defiance.

She doesn't remember when it happened or who compelled her, but she knows this urge, this terrible desire, is not her own. She needs to kill herself and she needs to do it here, next to a sleeping Klaus, but the how is not entirely beyond her control.

A sharp object, she thinks, and this is not her own thought.

The silver dagger, she thinks, and this thought is all hers. The silver dagger, still covered in Rebekah's blood.

She slips away from the bed without waking Klaus, casting one brief look back. He looks so peaceful, sleeping like this. She's never seen him more vulnerable. She can't wake him, that must be part of the compulsion too.

The dagger is not far, just down the corridor and she almost breathes a sigh of relief at the sight of it. No one has cleaned it yet and for that Cami is beyond grateful. Some of the forceful pressure in her chest lessens when she holds the knife and she swallows heavily. This dagger is going to kill her. She's going to go back to the bed and lie next to Klaus and bleed to death and there is nothing she can do to stop that.

There's nothing she can think of that would be able to stop the compulsion in time, but there is one thing she _can_ do.

On her way back to the bedroom, she drags her tongue along the flat side of the blade.

The blood is sticky and already nearly dried, but she holds the knife to her mouth until the coppery taste reaches her tongue and then swallows. This has to be enough, she prays, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. It's all she can do, _please let it be enough_.

Klaus is still on the bed and if he has noticed her absence, it hasn't woken him up. He's rolled more on his back now, leaving most of the left side of the bed free for her to sit down on. The pressure on her mind, her chest, her arms, is still as relentless as before and she looks at Klaus for what might be the last time.

He had kissed her. Just a few hours ago she had been happier than she remembers being in ages. Giddy, the laughter had bubbled up from deep inside her as finally, _finally_ , they let themselves admit what had been going on between them for so long. He had kissed her and then he had kissed her again and again and again, that same reverent look in his eyes as he looked at her. As if she was the most wonderful thing in his life and he wanted nothing more than to hold her forever. It had felt almost like a dream for a while as they lied on the bed, smiling at each other, wondering where this would lead and content to take their time. It had almost felt too good to be true.

The dagger is warm in her palm where her touch has heated the metal and she knows she can't wait much longer.

In the end it was always going to be like this. She's dreamt of this moment a million times over. She's stood in front of the mirror in her apartment looking at the green eyes she'd shared with her twin brother and wondered what it might feel like to take a blade to her own throat. She's never been suicidal, but the thought has been lurking deep in her mind from the moment she hears of what Sean did.

She lifts the blade to her throat and wonders if Sean realised what was going on when he had gone through the same twisted motions. Had he been screaming in his head as well? Begging for someone – anyone – to stop him?

She pulls the dagger tightly straight across her throat.

The blood covers her hand almost immediately. The silver dagger is sharp, so sharp she barely feels its bite. A warm wetness spreads all the way down her chest and the air fills with the smell of blood. She drops the dagger as soon as she's done.

She wants to turn, to look at Klaus one last time. Now that she's done what the compulsion required from her she can move freely again. She wants him to be the last thing she sees in case this last minute plan of hers doesn't work.

Except the blood is flowing from the gaping wound in her neck faster than she had anticipated, and the loss of it is making her dizzy. Her vision is already blurring, darkness creeping in from the edges. She can't breathe.

The last thing she knows is her head meeting the pillow and then, nothing.

 


	2. the devil will weep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus wakes up.

 

It's the smell that woke him, he realises later.

The smell of blood hangs thick and heavy in the room and even with a thousand years of practice at control it stirs the more primal parts of him. He's turned in his sleep, holding Cami in his arms as she lies with her back against him, and he feels more at peace than he has in a long, long time. The memory of the previous night is a pleasant one and for a moment he almost smiles.

The next moment he notices something warm and wet on his fingers that his mind translates to _blood_ , and everything is so very, very wrong.

 

 

 

After hiding Rebekah's body somewhere safe and where no one is likely to stumble upon her, it's a mere four hours later that Elijah returns to the family compound. His hand still burns cold where he'd held the silver dagger that had sent Rebekah into her slumber and while he's composed himself as much as possible, he's far from alright. To hurt his family, to hurt _Rebekah_ is more painful than he ever imagined. It is only the thought that at least her sacrifice won't be in vain – that the prophecy has come to pass for Rebekah and that they can work on a cure for when they wake her – that allows him to keep his mind focused on their present dilemma.

The attacks against their family need to be accounted for. Freya and Rebekah's survival does not negate the intent behind the assassination attempts and Elijah has every intention of finding and destroying Tristan as soon as circumstances allow.

He realises something is wrong the moment he walks into the compound. The smell of blood is nearly overwhelming and the scent of it has spread through the house. Elijah hurries to the source of the smell, leading him to the smaller bedroom that had once belonged to Hayley when she still lived with the family and that had for the past few weeks been the room of Camille O'Connell.

It is with some trepidation that he pushes open the door. What awaits him on the other side is like a scene from one of his red door nightmares.

The source of the blood is obvious now, the smell thick and centred around the richly drenched sheets on the bed. Camille's blonde hair is stained a deep red near her scalp as well.

Her eyes are closed, almost as if she were sleeping peacefully, a painful illusion quickly shattered by the edge of a deep slash Elijah can see across her throat.

There is a trail of blood running from Camille's blood-stained lips down past her ear to her hair. A similar trace on his brother's wrist speaks a tale of desperation and of help arriving too late. Elijah has lived for over ten centuries and he knows as well as his brother that there is no coming back from a wound such as this. As they had first discovered centuries ago, their blood would only heal the living.

Freya has entered the room before him, but still lingers near the doorway. She stands with her arms crossed in front of her, clutching her own arms with white knuckled hands. Her eyes are sympathetic when they meet his and and she briefly shakes her head at Elijah's silent inquiry. She makes no move to intrude further upon the scene playing out here.

In the middle of the bed sits Niklaus, head bowed over the blonde woman's body in his arms. His shoulders are hunched together and he has not looked up when Elijah pushed open the door.

"Brother," he starts and then stops, unsure of how to continue.

Klaus raises his head now, and Elijah doesn't know what expression he expected to find on his brother's face but finds himself startled all the same. When he saw his brother's posture earlier he had worried this death may be a breaking point.

 _Let him be happy, just for once_ , Rebekah had said to him just hours ago and from what Elijah can tell Niklaus had been. He'd held happiness in his hands for just a short few hours before it was ripped apart. His brother's face holds a pain that makes Elijah want to reach out and touch his shoulder in sympathy, were it not for the other emotion in his eyes.

Rage. His brother's face shows nearly dried tear tracks, but any grief and desperation of before have been turned to fury. And Niklaus' anger is not something to be trifled with.

"They will pay for this," Klaus finally states. His voice is still hoarse, but there's a deadly certainty to it and Elijah doesn't doubt him for a second.

 

 

 

For a moment Elijah thinks his brother might storm off while still covered in Camille's blood, but when he finally lays her down on the bed again he does so with surprising gentleness. He places her head on the pillow and lays her hands together over her stomach, his own hand lingering on Camille's. In the end, he reaches out to stroke her face and Elijah averts his eyes, granting his brother a brief moment of privacy.

Niklaus' face is almost deceptively calm when he comes to stand in front of Elijah, his eyes hard but steady.

"Will you help me, brother?"

The question is simple and despite their estrangement, despite their fights, Elijah finds that his answer is simple as well. "Of course."

It might not be forgiveness exactly, but it's something and Elijah will gladly help his brother destroy those that would dare harm their family.

A savage grin spreads on his brother's face for a moment before it fades away. It's not at all like the satisfied smirk he might have expected, any joy at their alliance ruined by the grim circumstances.

Niklaus turns away to look at Camille once more. His cool demeanour falls away as he swallows heavily, eyes bright. He stares down at his shirt and hands, covered as they are in blood. For a moment he looks so lost and Elijah thinks he sees Freya start to move forward, to reach out in silent comfort, before stopping herself. She too must be wondering if the simple act of putting a hand on Niklaus' shoulder might be enough to shatter what small measure of composure he has.

"Perhaps you should go wash up," Elijah suggests carefully. "Freya and I can take care of matters here until you return and we plan our vengeance."

His brother nods vaguely, emotions shifting across his face before he sets his jaw and only a cool fury remains. Then he turns and walks away.

Elijah meets Freya's gaze over Niklaus' retreating shoulders. His sister's dark eyes are hard as well and Elijah is struck once again by how well Freya fits into their family despite her thousand year absence. Perhaps it is something in their blood, something about the family they were raised in that makes them all inclined to strike back first before allowing themselves to truly mourn.

 

 

 

After their brother leaves Freya enters the bathroom, returning with several towels and a bowl of water. Working silently, Elijah helps her strip the bed while she tries to wipe away the blood from Camille's face and neck. The bed sheets are entirely drenched in blood and Elijah grits his teeth.

This is the third time in the last twenty-four hours that he has the blood of someone he cares about on his hands. They might as well burn the covers later, but for now he'll just hand them to a servant to take care of and rinse his hands once again. His handkerchief has long since been used and he hasn't yet had a chance to replace it.

When he returns Camille is lying on the stripped bed. The most of the blood is gone, making the cut in her throat a stark contrast to the now clean pale skin. The centuries have desensitised him to the sight of corpses and he's hardly a stranger to death, but to see someone he might have tentatively called a friend in such a state still shakes him.

Freya comes to stand beside him.

"I was performing a locator spell," she tells him and Elijah lifts his eyebrows in faint surprise. "I heard Niklaus scream but couldn't come until later. He was like that when I found him and didn't even respond when I asked what happened."

Seeing her downcast look, Elijah reaches out to take her hand. "I doubt anyone could have gotten through to Niklaus at that time," he tells her. "If he couldn't have prevented this it is unlikely any of us would have been able to."

Freya holds his hand and leans in against his shoulder.

They stand like that for a moment and Elijah gives her hand another squeeze. Freya sends him a grateful smile in response.

Eventually, Elijah turns to her. "What was the locator spell for?"

His sister lifts her head and lets go of his hand to reach up to her chest.

"Finn is missing." Freya frowns. "I can't find my necklace anywhere, someone must have taken it. The locator spell didn't work either."

He pauses. That could be a problem. He cares little for his brother himself, but he knows Freya still does, not to mention that the spirit was once a strong witch. To have that power fall in the wrong hands...

"It was likely the Strix," Elijah murmurs. His eyes flash with barely contained rage. "It seems they did not stop at cursing Rebekah, poisoning you and stealing the Serratura."

"Or attacking Camille," Freya adds, eyes sad as she looks at the woman on the bed. Elijah knows she'd liked Camille, they all had. It was hard not to when they could see the effect she was having on their brother.

And above that, he had spent several weeks together with her and talking to her had been... pleasant. She had a quick wit about her. Straightforward and honest, but with enough tact to keep one from taking offence. He'd genuinely enjoyed her company.

Elijah hasn't spoken to her as much in the months following the night of Dahlia's defeat. His anger at Niklaus lead to him pulling away from Camille as well, observing her continued talks with his brother with unconvinced eyes. Camille so easily forgave Niklaus for his actions that night, but then he could hardly blame her as he himself had done the same over the centuries. Despite their distance he hadn't been any less fond of Camille.

But as for the Strix attacking her?

Elijah frowns. "No. This was too direct an attack for it to have come from Tristan. He would have had no reason for such a personal attack."

Niklaus' voice joins them from the doorway.

"Aurora did."

 

 

 

Taking a shower doesn't help. As the blood washes away he can't help but be reminded that it is _Cami's_ blood he is covered in. He tries to slow down his racing mind, to focus on meticulously cleaning the dried blood from under his fingernails, but finally gives up when he realises he'd much rather go and drench himself in somebody else's blood than spend another moment trying to clean himself.

His bloodied clothes have been taken away when he steps out and he quickly dresses and makes his way back with some trepidation. He can hear his siblings talking from the room, speaking of the Strix and that blasted Tristan. Klaus is glad at least they are on the same page on this matter. Revenge will be served soon and it will be swift and without mercy.

Elijah is saying his progeny had no reason to attack Cami and Klaus is inclined to agree, except-

"Aurora did," Klaus says, the words bitter in his mouth.

He enters the room. The smell of blood is less now that someone removed the covers from the bed. Freya and Elijah are still standing by the bed but look up when he speaks.

"Tristan may not have had cause to harm Cami, but he will always side with his sister and Aurora already tried to get to her before."

Neither of his siblings speak up to offer reassurances, but then Klaus didn't really expect them to. Both Elijah and Freya have made clear they wished Aurora dead or perhaps tortured for harming Rebekah, even if his brother originally agreed with his decision to let Aurora go. He should have killed her sooner, Klaus realises. If he hadn't hesitated before, if he hadn't tried to draw it out to watch Aurora suffer more, Camille might still be alive.

He tries to quell the nausea that fills his stomach at the thought of Cami being dead. The anger helps. It burns through him, focuses him. He can mourn Cami after revenge has been exacted.

It doesn't quite rid him of the feelings of despair, however. He had been right there, sleeping in the same bed. He'd promised Cami the safest place for her to be was by his side and yet it was by his side that she met her end.

"I would have noticed if someone had entered the room," he states firmly, tearing his eyes from the blonde hair spread out on the bed.

He feels Elijah's eyes rest on him briefly before his brother nods.

"So then we must assume that no one else was present in the room at the time and Camille must have done the act herself."

The answer as to what happened is as obvious as it is confusing.

"She was compelled," Klaus says, anger leaking into his voice.

Someone must have gotten to her, but when? Cami had been drinking vervain every morning she was in the compound. Klaus had been there each time during breakfast, he'd smelled the vervain and seen her drink. There was no way someone could have compelled her during the past few weeks.

Meaning she must have been compelled ever since Aurora had kidnapped her.

The compulsion would have been dormant in her mind for all these weeks, that's the only explanation. Something that happened last night must have triggered it, caused whatever predetermined commands Aurora had left for Cami to be executed.

Last night, when he had kissed Cami for the first time. With a pained exhale, Klaus closes his eyes. That has to be it. Aurora is jealous and vicious and still thinks she has a claim to his heart, this would be exactly the kind of thing she would do. To ensure that even if Cami proved to be a real competition for his affections, she would not be so for long.

Head bowed, Klaus struggles to push down the emotions threatening to overwhelm him. Aurora will pay for this, he repeats to himself.

Suddenly he becomes aware of his siblings' presence in the room. Freya is by the side of the bed, kneeling to pick something up. From the corner of his eye, Klaus realises it is a bloodied silver dagger. It must have been what Cami used to-

He forces his thoughts away and focuses on Freya, who is glancing over the dagger with curiosity, before her movements become more focused, more intent. Her eyes grow wide.

"Elijah, is this-" Freya trails of her question, showing Elijah the blade.

His brother steps closer to inspect the dagger and suddenly he looks at her in recognition. "Yes, I do believe it is."

They exchange meaningful looks as if they are holding a silent conversation, one they are excluding him from. Klaus bristles at the brief glances they are sending his way.

"What aren't you saying?" he demands.

Freya frowns and seems oddly reluctant to speak.

"There is a chance- the silver dagger is the same one I used on Rebekah earlier. There is a chance that before Camille used it, some of Rebekah's blood was still on the blade."

He can barely grasp what Freya is implying, but as fearful hope erupts in his chest he knows it is important.

"Why didn't you say so before?" he snaps, almost reflexively.

Elijah steps in. "Calm yourself, brother. Freya merely meant to consider your feelings. If this is not the case..." He looks away.

Klaus looks between the two of them, their faces grave. The words are still not sinking in, the meaning incomprehensible. His voice sounds small even to his own ears. "What are you saying?"

"The possibility exists that Rebekah's blood may have been in Camille's system when this happened, but we will not be able to tell for certain until a few hours from now. If she wakes, she will have been saved. If not..." He trails off. "There is nothing we can do now but wait."

Klaus looks down at Cami's body. Someone, likely Freya, has cleaned up the blood as far as possible and covered her with a blanket from the shoulders down. He feels another sharp pang of grief as she realises he won't be able to hold her hand like this.

Cami might still wake up.

He'd written off the possibility around the same time his blood had failed to heal her. He can see now why Freya was reluctant to speak up, unlikely as the chance was. If Cami does not survive now, when he has had the slightest glimmer of hope reignited in him... It would be nearly unbearable.

It's cruel to be given hope when it might so easily be taken away. He's tortured people like this before. Given them the tiniest bit of hope that their situation might improve only to ruthlessly crush their hopes in front of their eyes.

Once, centuries ago, he'd hunted down a young vampire that had betrayed him and fled. When he was caught the vampire surrendered himself to save his beloved. Klaus had let him believe his love could be spared through his cooperation, when in fact the human girl had met her tragic end that very first day. He can still remember the helpless rage and utter despair in his victim's eyes when he'd revealed the truth to the man just moments before the vampire met his end.

Klaus never quite expected to be put in the same situation himself.

Elijah and Freya are still watching him, waiting for his response. Perhaps they expect him to storm off to find Aurora. It's certainly something he's considering.

The uncertainty is the worst part, he thinks as he finally pulls up an armchair and sinks down in it. He's learnt to be patient over the centuries, but as always he feels everything in him urging him to act, to kill, to tear apart. He wants nothing more than to go out and drench himself in his enemies' blood, but he can't.

Cami might wake up.

Slowly, with deliberate calm, Klaus settles in to wait.

 

 

 

The room is so dark when she wakes that she almost isn't sure her eyes are really open.

She wakes with her heart racing and gasping for breath as she launches upright from the bed. Taking deep strong breaths and clawing at her throat, she first becomes aware of her surroundings.

She's lying on a bed, she can feel the soft fabric of the covers beneath her hands and the way the springs move inside the mattress as she pushes herself to the edge. The rest of the room is big, but also dark and her eyes are struggling to adjust.

After a brief moment of hesitation, she leaves the bed. She takes one small step away into the dark, keeping her hands close in front of her to avoid accidentally running in to something. The floor creaks behind her foot, but it feels strong enough to hold her and she's emboldened by her success. She's about to take another step when a sudden pained cry sounds from the dark.

There is someone in the room with her.

She looks around quickly, but no matter how much she tries, she can't make out more than vague shadows in the dim light. Her heart beats loud in her chest and the sound reminds her of something in the back of her mind, something she's forgetting. Something important.

Cami freezes when suddenly she hears a voice behind her. "Hey Cam."

It's a childhood nickname, one she hasn't heard in years. Only very few people have ever called her that. Most people prefer _Cami_ or just use her full name. In fact, over the past ten years there is only one person who still sometimes called her _Cam_ with an easy grin on his face and a teasing glint in his familiar light green eyes.

She turns around slowly.

The dim light in the attic clears up just enough for her to see blond hair and shadows where her own eyes should be reflected back.

"Hey Cam," Sean repeats. "Long time no see."

 


	3. tonight you will dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freya finds the problem.

 

A sudden gasp draws their attention immediately. On the bed, Camille's breath comes in painfully laboured heaves for a few more moments and then evens out to a steady rhythm. Freya quickly walks over to check her pulse and sure enough, there is the faintest of heartbeats.

She sighs in relief. "There's a pulse. She's in transition. Rebekah's blood must have been in her system after all."

Clearly visible above the white blanket, Camille's wound heals before their eyes, the skin knitting together until it is as if it has never been there. The pallor of her skin remains, as it would until she completes the transition and feeds on human blood, but she loses some of the deathly paleness from before.

"Her wounds are healing," Niklaus whispers, as if he dare not voice it for fear of having his hope ripped away from him again. But the signs are undeniable and he's repeating Freya's words in relief. "She's in transition."

They hold silent for about a minute, waiting for further signs of Camille's return to the living, but no other signs seem to be forthcoming.

Elijah leans forward in his armchair, dark eyes moving between the still woman on the bed and their brother. Niklaus never once takes his eyes off Camille, but his restlessness is obvious in his clenching fingers, no doubt wishing for something – someone – to tear apart. They can only wait.

Freya holds her wrist in front of Camille's mouth and nose to check her breath and feels the soft rush of air upon her exhale.

"She's breathing normally, it's almost as if she's sleeping."

"Why isn't she waking up?" Klaus suddenly demands. "If she's in transition she should have woken up by now." Her brother starts pacing again, with all the frustrated aggression of a caged tiger about to pounce.

Elijah's eyes follow him across the room, his eyebrows drawn up in a frown.

Freya once again considers the dagger Camille had used. "Rebekah's blood... There may still have been traces of the curse in it which could be affecting the transition."

Elijah tenses at her side. She looks up at him, puzzled, but his face reveals nothing.

"What sort of effects could it have?" Klaus' eyes are intense as he stops his pacing to question her.

Unfortunately Freya doesn't yet have any real answers. "I would have to investigate. I will perform some spells to determine the exact nature of the curse remnants, if there are any."

Klaus nods at her, clenching his jaw. Freya knows that he is holding himself back for her sake. If she had been any other witch, she has no doubt he would be more forceful in his demands. The uncertainty of the situation is making them all restless.

She meets Elijah's eyes, silently entreating him to be the voice of reason to their younger brother should the need arise. Elijah nods almost imperceptibly, his eyes dark with an emotion Freya can't quite define.

As she grabs the dagger and makes for the study to call on her magic for answers, she can just hear the steady rhythm of Niklaus' footsteps behind her as he keeps up his pacing.

 

 

 

As soon as she recognises her brother, the light in the church attic seems to turn brighter. Cami can see antique furniture and cupboards covered with white sheets from the corner of her eye but all her focus is on the blond young man standing before her now. Her twin brother, Sean.

"You're dead," Cami whispers.

Sean smiles at her, but it looks all wrong. There's a cruel edge to his smile that she's never seen on him before. It reminds her of someone else. She takes a step back instinctively.

Suddenly she sees dark red blood well up under his chin, pouring from a wound in his throat. He reaches for her with a bloodstained hand and grins.

"Oh Camille, we're all dead here."

She feels something warm and wet spreading down her chest. As she lifts her hand she notices with a sinking feeling in her stomach that it's covered in blood as well. Her blood.

With a horrified gasp she realises she can't breathe and she falls to her knees. The last thing she sees is the smile dropping from her brother's dead face as she sinks to the floor.

 

 

 

Elijah does not speak as they sit by Cami's bedside like silent guardians holding wake. Klaus has nothing to say to his brother either, but the silence between them is not exactly uncomfortable.

The tension between the two of them has been fluctuating constantly these past few months, but at this very moment it has all but disappeared. There is much anger in the room, but none of it is directed at each other.

He is sure his brother still disapproves of any feelings he might still have for Aurora, but after what Aurora has done, both to Rebekah and now Cami, Klaus is for once in agreement with his brother. The red-haired vampire and her wicked brother have made their last mistake thinking they could attack their family with impunity.

Elijah had gotten up to pour them both a drink from the decanter in the corner a while ago. At first Klaus was tempted to throw the glass against the wall, he has no patience for liquor or anything else that distracts him from Cami. But Elijah is insistent, holding out the tumbler of whiskey until Klaus takes it and reluctantly seats himself.

He is still filled to the brim with restless energy, full of anger with no target to aim it at except perhaps himself, but he has to admit the alcohol helps. The sharp bite of it in the back of his throat focuses him. He notices Elijah drinks from his own glass with an uncharacteristic lack of the casual elegance and restraint he usually employs, his face drawn, but then he is hardly in a position to judge. Let his brother find a small measure of comfort in his drink, if he can.

Cami is becoming restless on the bed, her sleep clearly uneasy. Klaus finds himself tightening his fingers around his glass just imagining what horrible magic it might be that keeps her in this state. She needs to wake up soon, for the sake of his own sanity if nothing else.

 

 

 

Freya returns an hour later clenching the silver dagger in her hand and with a frown on her face.

"I believe I have discovered why Camille hasn't woken up yet."

Klaus is out of his chair instantly. "What is it?"

Freya holds up the dagger. The blood on the blade is all Cami's, but he knows now there must have been some of Rebekah's blood remaining before as well.

"It's the curse," Freya starts. "Rebekah's blood did indeed cause Camille to go into transition. The signs are clear, her wounds have healed and her heart has started again. The only problem is that the traces of the curse left in Rebekah's blood mean that Camille is experiencing side effects similar to those caused by the stake. She's trapped, unable to wake up. Much like Rebekah was when the stake was still in her heart."

Klaus grits his teeth. He'd already suspected something along these lines from Freya's earlier remarks. However, some details don't seem to add up.

"She's restless, if she's trapped like Rebekah was shouldn't she be lying still?"

Freya frowns. "It could be possible that while she's trapped her subconscious is plaguing her with dreams."

"Most likely nightmares, in that case," Elijah supplies, his face dark.

Klaus wishes there was a threat in the room he could rip apart with his bare hands.

"Then we have to wake her up. If she is trapped in the same way as Rebekah she will be aware but unable to act. She'll suffer, especially if she really is experiencing nightmares and I will not allow her to go through that."

"There's another problem we need to consider," Freya adds, shooting a glance at Elijah.

"What?" Klaus snaps, "What else could be wrong here?"

"Camille was turned during the night, in the early morning," she states. "We only have today."

It's Elijah that speaks up, clearly having understood what Freya was worried about.

"She's in transition, Niklaus. The girl has to feed on human blood before the night is out or she will die."

"If she does not wake before midnight," Freya confirms, a grim look on her face, "she will not be able to feed and complete the transition."

Elijah frowns, looking back at his sister. "Even if it comes to that, we have human blood at hand, we can feed her if she does not wake."

"No," Klaus says, before he's even aware of having opened his mouth. "We wake her up first. If Camille," he pauses, swallowing heavily. "If Camille wishes to complete the transition I'll feed her myself, but she would want this to be her choice."

He can feel Elijah's eyes resting on him, no doubt due to his uncharacteristic selfless statement, but he refuses to look away from Cami's still form. The nightmares seem to have passed and her sleep appears more peaceful. Her chest rises and falls slowly, but she gives no other signs of being alive, let alone awake. The very thought of losing her again so soon after he woke up thinking she was dead is unbearable.

His words may be pretty and no doubt what Cami would like to hear if she were here, but in all honestly Klaus has to admit he can't be sure he will be able to stay true to them. He will leave the choice to Cami should it come to that or at the very least try his best, but Elijah is right, if she does not wake before then he would feed her human blood in an instant.

He won't lose Cami, certainly not before she wakes up.

 

 

 

His brother's decision is noble yet unreasonable, in Elijah's opinion. If it should come to it, they would be fools to let Camille die on the off-chance she might wish to reconsider her immortal existence later. Better to have her survive now to give her time to make her own choice.

He knows his brother is likely thinking of their own turning as well, how they had their vampire nature forced upon them by their parents. No doubt he wishes to spare Camille that fate. Except it's clear to Elijah the two situations are not at all the same.

Where their parents had intentionally slaughtered their children in the most ruthless fashion and held their mouths over a bleeding girl's wrist to force them to feed, Klaus would do none of that. Camille's demise was not by Klaus' hand and while Niklaus has not always been the most accepting of other people's choices, Elijah is relatively certain his brother might indeed respect Camille's wishes here.

Besides, chances are Camille's wishes will include her own survival. If given the choice between staying human and turning perhaps the matter would be different, but her current options are limited to becoming a vampire or dying. Painlessly perhaps, like falling into a deep sleep, but dying all the same.

Either way they won't be able to discuss any of this with the woman herself yet because apparently Camille isn't going to wake up on her own. The knowledge that Camille – courageous and kind Camille, for whom his brother clearly has deep feelings – is suffering from the same affliction as Rebekah pains him.

The secret of Rebekah's true fate weighs heavy on his mind. When he had daggered her as she asked and hid her body he never for a second imagined his resolution would be tested in such a way quite so soon. He welcomes the guilt as his due for what he did to his sister, but despite the circumstances his siblings would most certainly ask questions if he isn't careful to hide his thoughts. He wonders again if he is making the right decision keeping this from them.

Secrets have never done his family any good, if nothing else their long history has shown them that. Their secrets have a way of coming out later and the feelings of hurt and betrayal are always a volatile combination especially in a family as dysfunctional as theirs. He needs only to remember his recent brawl with Niklaus to see how well keeping secrets usually turns out.

On the other hand, he's acutely aware that to speak up now and tell the truth about Rebekah's fate would distract his siblings in the one moment where their focus is of the utmost importance. This is hardly a secret that can be absorbed and dealt with later. It if comes out it will demand his siblings' attention and there will be questions at a time when such distractions are dangerous.

No, if it becomes necessary he will most certainly tell them, but for now he will do as Rebekah asked him and keep his silence. It was her last wish, after all. To honour it would be the least he could do for his sister, no matter how it might end up hurting him in the end should his siblings interpret his behaviour as a betrayal.

"There might be a way to wake up Camille," Freya says slowly, and Elijah forces himself to pay attention.

"What is it?" Klaus asks. Elijah can clearly see the desperation in his brother's eyes. No matter what the plan might involve, his brother will probably be willing to do it should it bring Camille back. _Whatever it takes._

"She's currently trapped in a dream state, unable to wake up on her own," Freya begins. "But it might be possible for someone to enter her mind – to enter her dream – and wake her up from the inside."

Klaus leans forward. "I already tried to enter her mind earlier, but something was keeping me out."

Elijah hasn't seen his brother attempt to look at Camille's thoughts, but to hear he tried hardly comes as a surprise.

"You wouldn't have been able to, no." Freya shakes her head. "The curse remnants still in her blood are keeping her unconscious and also ward off any outside influence."

Elijah frowns and he can see his brother doing the same.

"Then what are you proposing?" asks Klaus.

"We will have to trick the curse into believing you are under the influence of it as well. I have several herbs that would help accomplish that, with as key ingredient Camille's blood. You might be trapped as well at first, but you can enter Camille's mind and wake her up as the curse's hold will be less strong on you."

Elijah stills. This plan is starting to sound increasingly risky. If the curse also affects Niklaus... He's been keeping his silence to honour Rebekah's wish, but if his siblings might disregard a serious risk due to their mistaken belief they can remove the curse, he will have to speak up.

Freya frowns at him. "Are you all right, Elijah?"

Klaus' look instantly swivels over to him. Elijah forces himself not to give anything away now that his brother's scrutiny has been drawn to him.

 

 

 

Freya considers her oldest brother. Elijah has been quiet so far this evening, speaking little. Some of it can of course be accounted for due to the present circumstances but she didn't expect that the idea of losing Camille would affect him so strongly.

"The curse might affect Niklaus?" Elijah asks, strangely intent.

Freya pauses in thought. "Most likely not, since there are but mere traces of it in the blood. The magic has already been diluted and should not spread to a new host and definitely not to the extent it did with Rebekah."

She looks at Niklaus, sitting on the edge of the bed next to Camille.

"And either way it will not matter. I removed the curse from Rebekah, should Niklaus find himself affected as well, we could do the same thing again."

Elijah holds silent beside her and she turns to look at him, puzzled, when he suddenly gets up. His face is determined as he casually buttons his suit jacket.

"The two of you should stay to help Camille. I shall go out to find Tristan."

She pauses, surprised by his sudden move.

"He'll be in hiding," Niklaus says, his voice hoarse.

Elijah's eyes are cold. Dangerous. He smiles.

"Then I suppose I will simply have to stake every single member of the Strix I encounter until they reveal to me Tristan's location."

 

 

 

His brother is halfway to the door when he pauses. He turns back to meet Klaus' eyes and inquires carefully, as if worried or hesitant about the answer.

"What would you like me to do should I find Aurora, brother?"

Klaus looks at Cami as she lies on the bed. The wound on her neck has healed, but in his mind he still sees it, the ugly red of the wound on her neck in stark contrast with the paleness of her skin. He wants desperately to exact revenge, to be the one to make Aurora pay for this.

"Kill her," he says.

Klaus turns back to Elijah and just for a moment he thinks he can see a satisfied glint in his brother's eyes. He ignores it.

"That woman has already done enough damage. If at all possible, leave her to me, but if not then kill her. Who knows what else she might attempt to do."

Elijah nods and is about to leave when Klaus speaks up again.

"And Elijah?"

His brother looks back questioningly.

"Make her suffer."

This time the dark satisfaction in Elijah's eyes is unmistakable.

 

 

 

When Elijah has left, Freya soon becomes business-like, which suits Klaus just fine. The sooner they wake up Cami, the better. His sister's efficiency also helps to somewhat temper the anger burning in his chest.

"I'll need to prepare a mixture of several herbs and some of Camille's blood for you to drink. The herbal tea will help me link your mind to hers."

Klaus nods. Witchy tea, that seems almost suspiciously easy. He grits his teeth at the thought of needing more of Cami's blood, however. She has already spilled enough this night.

"After you drink the tea, you should lie down next to Camille and open your mind to her. Skin to skin contact would be best, but I know you have experience with entering minds."

"Some, yes," Klaus agrees. It's not his favourite trick, but then you hardly spend a thousand years as a vampire and not develop at least some competence with your powers. He usually doesn't see the point of entering people's minds or dreams when a simple compulsion will do the same and allows for more precise commands as well.

He's about to turn back to the bed when Freya speaks again, sounding hesitant.

"There is one more thing you should know."

Klaus looks back at Freya. "About the ritual? What is it?"

"I will have to plunge this into your heart."

She holds up the dagger. The silver blade is still covered in Cami's blood. Klaus' eyes flicker down to the dagger briefly before coming up to meet his older sister's serious eyes.

He immediately realises the source of Freya's hesitation, after all the two of them have a tumultuous history where it concerns daggers that end up in his heart. This situation will no doubt put to the test the trust that has tentatively begun to grow between them in these past few months. Klaus can't say he cared much for the sensation of being stabbed in the heart by a sibling.

Freya hurries to explain the details of the ritual and how it would involve the dagger.

"When this blade enters your heart there will be a momentary connection between you and Camille, facilitated by my magic. The silver will heal fast and I can remove it once you have entered the dream state, but I'm afraid this is the only way I can come up with at such short notice that will allow you to access her mind and wake her up."

He keeps quiet, considering the dilemma for himself. The temporary pain of a dagger stabbed through his heart compared to the agonising heartbreak of never having Cami wake up. _Well then_. When put like that there really is only one choice.

Klaus nods, looking at Freya with determination.

"Then do it. Whatever it takes, sister."

Freya smiles slightly. "I'll go get the tea."

 

 

 

Klaus brushes back a strand of Cami's hair and looks up when Freya returns not fifteen minutes later. She must have already had most of the ingredients at hand in the study for there is no way she could have gone to the bell-tower and back in such short amount of time.

Then again it can't have been hard to find Cami's blood here in the compound, he thinks bitterly.

Freya puts the steaming stone cup on the bedside table and pours in some powder from a small leather pouch she pulls out of her pocket.

"Crushed white muskroot," she answers when she sees him looking at her in query. "It needs to be added right before you drink it or it'll lose its potency."

A smell of dried herbs and burnt garlic rises from the stone cup and she hands it over. He hesitates only a fraction of a second before steeling himself and lifting it to his lips.

The tea tastes horribly bitter on his tongue and Klaus makes a face, and swallows it down quickly. It's still hot and scalds his mouth, but he doesn't utter a single complaint. If anything the burnt taste buds will mean he can ignore the taste and besides, to bring back Cami he would gladly drink a thousand more boiling cups of disgusting tea.

When he puts the empty cup back on the night stand he's thankful that at least there's no offensive aftertaste. He tentatively explores his mouth with his tongue but all he notices is the deep coppery taste of Cami's blood that almost seems to increase in intensity while the other flavours fade. He's tasted her blood only once before but he would recognise it anywhere.

"All right, now that you've ingested the potion we'll have to link your mind to Camille's," Freya says, retrieving the silver dagger. "It might be best if you lie down."

Klaus meets Freya's eyes as he sits on the bed.

"I'm trusting you, sister."

Freya nods solemnly. The look in her eyes tells him she knows exactly how much such a declaration means. He knows she'll do whatever is in her power to help him.

Klaus unbuttons his shirt till halfway down his chest and pulls it to the side to leave the skin above his heart bared. He sees no point in ruining another shirt when it can so easily be prevented.

Pushing the blanket covering Cami to the side carefully, he uncovers her pale hand up to her wrist. He leaves the rest of the blanket where it is, so as not to disturb her too much. Since Cami is unlikely to notice, he's forced to acknowledge to himself that it's mostly for his own peace of mind.

Her hand is cool when he takes it. Not cold, exactly, it's just that her body temperature is still a few degrees lower than it had been the day before. Cami had been so warm and alive the previous night. As he lies down next to her on the bed he can still remember the feeling of her hand over his heart.

"You'll have to close your eyes and relax," Freya prompts. She's holding the silver dagger in one hand and more herbs in the other. "As you enter the same dream state, my magic should be able to link the two of you and you can enter her dream and wake her up."

Klaus nods determinedly once and then closes his eyes. Laying his head back on the pillow, he carefully tries to release the tension from his body. It's no easy task, but slowly and surely his breathing deepens as he relaxes.

"Good." Freya's voice is as serene as ever. "Now, I need you to think of Camille. Imagine her in your mind, in as much detail as you can. Open your mind to her."

Klaus has indeed entered people's minds before over the centuries but this particular spell clearly requires a more specific ritual. Fingers twitching slightly around Cami's still hand, Klaus allows his sister to lead him.

He pictures Camille as she had been the night before. The way she had smiled at him at the Christmas party, how she had almost seemed to glow in the light of the decorations. The feel of her hands cupping his face and the intensity of her eyes as she told him that what he'd done for detective Kinney was not nothing.

He thinks of the burning spark of her righteous anger and how her glare has at times even cowed him. The way she so willfully puts herself in harm's way to help those she cares about. Her quick mind and how it always seems to be buzzing with questions but also the way she can look at him and see _him_ in a way that so few over the centuries ever have. The way she had seen all that he was but still looked on him with sympathetic eyes.

He remembers the feeling of her soft lips against his, something he had found himself wondering about before – absently, in the back of his mind – over the past year. Her breathless little chuckle after they parted seems to echo in his ears as he can feel himself unwinding further and sinking deeper and deeper into himself.

_Pain._

He gasps in shock as the searing burn of a silver dagger being plunged deep in his heart takes him by surprise. Despite Freya's earlier warning, he'd almost forgotten about this part of the spell.

The last thing he thinks of is Cami's smell, the light floral perfume he'd noticed her wearing the night before and another, deeper smell that is all her. As he breathes in he can almost taste her unique fragrance on his tongue, mixed with the blood. It fills all his senses and wraps around him until all he knows is the light green of her eyes.

And then he dreams.

 

 

 

Klaus opens his eyes.

In front of him the forest is dark, the only light coming from a torch somewhere behind him. The flickering flames cast moving shadows on the ground in the clearing.

There's something shifting in the darkness too, a shape that slinks from tree to tree before disappearing from sight. It's hard to see in the dim light of the torch and for a moment Klaus wonders if he might be mistaken. He's on edge, he might just be jumping at shadows. Literally in this case.

Klaus breathes in deeply. Either way, there is no time to linger here. Cami is still stuck in the dream state brought on by the curse somewhere. He needs to find Cami, he needs-

"Back for another beating, _boy?"_ Mikael asks as he steps into the light.

Niklaus swallows heavily.

 


	4. I would have found you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cami dreams.

 

Freya finishes her chanting and takes a deep breath. Niklaus is asleep, a slight frown marring his fine features. The dagger buried in his chest is likely to be an uncomfortable experience despite his fast healing.

The spell should have worked. Klaus should be able to find his way to Camille with her help and then he will be able to wake her up. There's nothing more Freya can do from her end but hope that her brother will be successful in saving this woman who is clearly very important to him.

"It's up to you now, brother," she whispers, leaning over his still form.

She reaches forward and swiftly pulls the silver dagger from his chest. Niklaus gasps but his eyes remain closed. Soon he settles down again, his sleep seemingly more peaceful than before. Where his shirt is open she can see the stab wound above his heart healing at an incredible rate.

Once again she is struck by the immense power that must have been behind a spell of this magnitude. To turn six people into something that isn't quite dead or alive. Living corpses that function as humans but with increased strength, speed, and healing capabilities and all they need to sustain themselves is regular access to human blood.

Despite the way her stomach twists at the very thought of the woman that was once her mother, Freya can admit that Esther's magic was extraordinary. To use the sun itself as a power source, the idea is almost outrageous. Absently she wonders if there might have been a solar eclipse for her to draw upon as well or some other celestial event. It hurts to think her mother had been willing to go so far for her other children when she had so easily given Freya away.

In some ways the spell keeping her siblings alive is the opposite of the immortality spell Dahlia once cast. Instead of living forever her siblings are forever frozen in this state that isn't quite death.

And then there is her. Human now, a witch with immense power, but no longer invulnerable. No longer immortal. She needs to be careful these days or she might never hope to see her family united ever again.

She was poisoned just the other day and now even Finn has been stolen from her. The little brother she remembers from before the dark horrors of life with Dahlia. The little brother that she trapped in her pendant to stop him and Klaus from killing each other.

She has to find Finn and to do so she suspects she'll have to look for the same person Elijah is currently hunting down. Smirking slightly she almost feels a rush of excitement, she always did dream of going on a hunt together with her family.

Niklaus and Camille will be safe in this room after she has cast certain protection spells. It's not like there's much harm anyone will be able to do anyway, she thinks, grimly. Camille already paid the ultimate price for her association with this family and her brother is immortal.

Swiftly locating one of the grimoires from the study, Freya returns to the bedroom. She'll cast four powerful protection spells to keep foes from entering this room until Klaus and Camille wake up and an alarm spell to warn her should anyone try to approach.

And then she will attempt to use her magic to locate Tristan de Martel. She and Elijah and Hayley had certainly made him bleed enough last time he was here that Freya should be able to use his blood for some subtle tracking spells. With Elijah's help out in the city, the two of them should have located the arrogant de Martel siblings soon enough.

After the spells are successful, she casts one final look at the couple lying on the bed. The thought that her brother might fail is almost too painful to imagine. It would break Niklaus and would in turn devastate the entire family.

Pausing at the door, she whispers. "Bring her back, Niklaus. For all our sakes."

 

 

 

Mikael stalks at him with all the raw fury and disgust he remembers from childhood. Niklaus clenches his fists to keep himself from shaking. His father doesn't stop until he is towering over him and then he can't help it, he flinches.

Mikael notices and the look in his blue eyes – so similar to his own and yet not his – turns just a little mocking, just a little bit more disgusted. The intensity of his father's hatred still intimidates him. To the man he is a disappointment no matter what he does. Klaus may have killed Mikael thrice over, but here in his nightmares the man is still as alive and vicious as ever.

"Well, boy?" Mikael spits out at him. "Has the cat got your tongue? Have you nothing to say?"

Niklaus tries to swallow, but his mouth is dry and his tongue feels like lead.

Mikael barks out a laugh, but there's nothing amused about it. "Now that's a first, you never used shut up before. Always blathering on about your worthless _art_ and or crying out your endless apologies. Every time the same 'I'm sorry I'm weak' and 'I'm sorry I stole and blunted your hunting knife, father.'"

If possible, Mikael's voice seems to turn even more cruelly mocking, this time with true anger underlying it. "'I'm so sorry, father, that I led your son to be devoured by wolves.'"

Niklaus flinches again.

"You killed your own brother. Your apologies are as useless as you were a son," Mikael hisses, and Niklaus takes an instinctive step back at the sheer force of his father's anger. He swallows, blinking furiously.

He needs to find Cami, he suddenly remembers, and takes another step backwards. Mikael follows him, pressing closer. The light of the torch casts shadows on his father's face. It emphasizes his sharp features and clouds parts of his face in darkness, but he can still see the man's hateful eyes.

Cami is out here somewhere and she needs him to help her wake up.

Drawing in a ragged breath, Niklaus tears his wide eyes away from his father's face. There, to the side, further into the forest. For a brief moment he sees a shiny glistening through the tall trees. That's where he needs to go. There's a feeling tugging at his heart urging him in that direction and he knows he has to hurry.

"Look at me while I'm talking to you, you insolent boy!"

The backhand to his face comes as a surprise. It shouldn't have, but Niklaus was distracted thinking about Camille and his father is quick to remind him what a bad idea it is to ignore him. His cheek aches fiercely and he cries out in pain as he falls backwards from the force of the blow.

The temptation to curl up around himself cradling his wounded cheek is strong, but self-pity has never helped him before and Mikael will not be swayed by any pathetic displays of weakness. The pain has made his eyes sting too and it is through tear-filled eyes that Niklaus again catches a glimpse of something shiny behind the trees. He stills.

Somewhere behind there is Cami, still trapped in her nightmares.

Keeping a wary eye on Mikael, he scrambles to his feet. Niklaus can feel his cheek burning, though whether it is from pain or due to shame for what he is about to do, he doesn't know. His father eyes him with obvious impatience.

The next moment the forest floor is dense and dry beneath his leather boots as he sprints into the forest as fast as his small legs can carry him.

"Running away, boy?!" Mikael shouts after him. "Go and hide like the coward you are!"

Niklaus clenches his fists and runs faster.

 

 

 

When Cami wakes up again, Sean is crouching next to her. She barely stops herself from backing away or throwing her arms around him, she doesn't quite know which. Sean's eyes are so familiar it aches. It's been entirely too long since she saw him alive.

"Sorry about the melodramatics earlier, Cam," he says apologetically. "I thought it might be an effective way of getting the point across."

"This isn't real," she states. She's torn between disappointment and relief. Both are quickly washed aside when her brother speaks again.

"No. What's real is that you died. Did you really think you could escape your fate? My twin sister." Sean's smile is pitying. "My mirror."

She swallows heavily, getting to her feet without taking her eyes away from the blond. Sean's green eyes track her as he stands up too. He's barely taller than her, but then he was never very tall, she remembers. She was the older twin, if only by mere minutes.

Sean keeps up his observation for a few moments longer, but when it's clear she isn't going to respond he turns around.

The attic is filled with light now and it is indeed the attic above St. Anne's church. Sean goes to stand by the shutters and peers outside. Cami sits on the bed in the middle of the room and tries to pretend she isn't staring at her twin. By the way a small knowing smirk plays at Sean's lips, she doubts he is fooled.

Finally, Sean turns back to her, a pensive look on his face.

"You know, Mom and Dad didn't show up at my funeral. I suppose they didn't want to be seen burying the guy who killed nine people and then cut his own throat." He pauses and tilts his head, as if a thought suddenly occurs to him. His eyes meet hers. "Do you think they'll show up for your funeral?"

Cami tenses and looks away. "I don't care. They couldn't even be bothered to come to yours or uncle Kieran's, I don't need them any more."

When she turns back it's no longer Sean standing there. She sees a dark jacket, light blue-green eyes, dark blond curls. Klaus.

"Still hurts though, doesn't it," he says softly. It's not a question.

She quickly rises to her feet. "Klaus." How did he manage to get here?

He doesn't quite smile. "Hello Camille," he says.

"Thank God you're here," she sighs, unable to hide her relief.

He still stands near the shutters, but even his mere presence is reassuring to her. A soft ray of sunlight shines through the slit where Sean left the shutter open and illuminates the side of his face.

"We should go and get out of here," she says. "I think I might be dreaming, but there has to be some way to wake up."

Why isn't he moving? She steps closer to him. "Klaus?"

"You're scared." He frowns, searching for her eyes. "Don't be afraid, Camille."

His eyes are staring into hers intently and she feels the stirrings of a familiar pressure in her mind.

"No," she says, the vehemence of her reaction surprising her. "You aren't real. This isn't real."

For a moment the Klaus in front of her – the illusion that isn't really Klaus – seems to falter.

"I assure you, Camille," he replies, only a heartbeat later. "I am quite real."

She shakes her head. "No. You're just in my head."

"How can you be so sure?"

How was she, indeed? To say she knows Klaus isn't capable of this would be a lie. She knows very well the lengths he can go to and the horrible things he has done, but not like this. Not to her. Not without a good reason and for the life of her she can't why he might be trying to compel her again.

If there is one thing she is certain about, it is that the man standing in front of her is not the real Klaus.

"You're from my nightmares," she answers instead. "I used to dream about what you did to me sometimes. That's all this is. Just a dream."

He steps forward and lifts one hand to brush her cheek. She feels almost paralyzed as she stares up at him with wide eyes. The look in his eyes turns from pensive to what might have been regret.

"You should have run when you still had the chance, Camille."

The next thing she knows is sharp teeth tearing into her neck and _pain_.

 

 

 

Around him the forest is turning lighter, but he hardly notices. The farther he gets from the ghost of his father, the longer his strides become. It's like there is a weight lifted off his back and he can stand up straighter now, should he stop running.

There's a fear in his chest that isn't entirely his own. It wells up inside of him and mixes with his own apprehension until it feels like there's a second heart pounding in the back of his head. Its rapid beating echoes his own, but as if from far away. There's something tying the two heartbeats together, a small silvery thread connecting them.

Instinctively, Klaus follows it.

 

 

 

The church Cami finds herself in is empty but for her. Gentle light streams through the coloured windows high above and reveals tiny motes of dust swirling around. It's so quiet that the sound of her heart beating seems to pound loudly in her ears. There is still a dull aching at her throat, but when she lifts her hand to check there is nothing but smooth skin.

In the back corner several small candles are burning already. Without really knowing what she's doing Cami makes her way over through the aisle and takes a long white candle from the box to the side. She lights the candle and is instantly aware that she's in a memory. This moment has happened before and suddenly she knows exactly what day it is.

There's a tingling in her fingers from when she had held the electrodes in her hands and the smoke from the candles stings her eyes. Uncle Kieran is upstairs and she knows he's dying even when she's trying hard to convince herself it isn't happening. He's the last of her family that matters to her and when he dies she will be all alone.

This is one of the worst days of her life, but the one good thing about it was that she didn't have to go through it all on her own. Any moment now Klaus will come downstairs from the attic to tell her it's too late for her uncle. Later she'll ask him to stay – just for a little while longer, so she won't be alone – and he'll be with her all those terrible hours before she gets to say goodbye.

She closes her eyes and waits. Perhaps it will even be the real Klaus this time.

"You might as well light a candle for your own soul while you're at it," says Lucien.

His voice comes from behind her and she tenses instinctively before turning around. Lucien stands in the middle of the aisle, dark eyes fixed on her. He's still wearing the black suit he wore to the Thanksgiving summit, shoes gleaming and suit trousers carefully pressed.

 _Dressed for church_ , she thinks bizarrely, the thought popping up into her head randomly. The idea of Lucien attending church is so absurd it almost makes her smile. Almost.

Cami folds her arms. "Why are you here, Lucien?"

"I should be asking you that."

She frowns, thrown off. "What? This is my dream."

"Yes. So why _am_ I here, exactly?" He raises his eyebrows. "Why are you dreaming of me, Camille?"

"I can't control these dreams."

"That doesn't mean I'm not here for a reason."

She tries to think. Why would she ever want him to be here? She's rather been trying to forget all about him, for all the good it's done so far. He still manages to find his way into her nightmares.

Nightmares, like the one she had the previous night. She had dreamed of Klaus compelling her the night before the Christmas party.

"I was compelled," she says slowly, thinking out loud.

"It wasn't me," Lucien replies easily. He is looking around to admire the leaded glass windows high above them. "You know as well as I that I was nowhere near you after you were abducted by Aurora."

"You could have compelled me to forget."

"Hm. True," he admits, tilting his head to get a better view of the top window. "That's what I would have done, but Aurora would no doubt have known and she didn't act as if I had been there, did she?"

No, she hadn't. Cami's memories from her time with Aurora are vivid in her mind. There are no sudden gaps, except for her dizziness after she hit her head. Despite her reluctance to remember the traumatic meeting, as far as she can tell the memories flow smoothly. Aurora's behaviour was as consistent throughout as could be expected for someone with extreme mood changes. There is no indication that they had any visitors before Klaus arrived.

"Klaus took me to my apartment to get some clothes immediately after he saved me and I took vervain as soon as I was there. I've been at the compound ever since."

Klaus wouldn't have compelled her again, most certainly not to kill herself, which only really left one option.

"It was Aurora, of course," Lucien says, shrugging. "I was going to compel you myself but then you ran."

He must have seen something on her face because he continues. "It was nothing personal, I assure you. Perhaps if you had been less annoyingly persistent about trying to prove my guilt I might not have had to resort to such measures, but then I did always need you to help me find the Serratura and I couldn't have you spilling all our secrets to Klaus first chance you got."

He waves his hand in a dismissive motion, as if to show how little he cares about the details.

"It's a bit of a nasty business, compulsion. I was compelled only once myself, but then it did last for over one hundred years before it was lifted."

"One hundred years?"

His eyes are cool when they meet hers. "Around one hundred and ten to be precise."

"So that was what you meant when you said that Klaus stole a century from you?" she asks, then narrows her eyes. "Wait."

He tilts his head.

"How do you know that?" she questions, sharply. "I didn't know about the exact number of years so if you're just a dream how could you?"

"Oh, but you do know. Klaus told you," Lucien replies. "Granted you were half-asleep at the time so you probably don't remember much of the conversation, but he explained all about our compulsion when you asked. Besides, you're not an idiot, Camille. You're perfectly capable of drawing conclusions on your own, even more so in your own subconscious."

She's not entirely convinced, but as he speaks vague memories are coming to her of Klaus sitting by the fire in the sitting room in the compound. Klaus' voice floating over her in a steady rhythm as he talks of their earliest days as vampires. She remembers distantly how he'd spoken of Elijah's compulsion of the trinity and how slowly the warmth of the fire and the glass of whiskey he poured her had lulled her to sleep.

Lucien may be speaking the truth after all. She looks up to find him standing before her, his hazel eyes on level with hers. He's not so tall, he doesn't tower over her like some other men, but she's apprehensive all the same. Lucien doesn't need to be tall to hurt her.

"This is all still in your head, Camille." His eyes are mocking. "But then you already knew that, didn't you?"

He takes a step closer to her, his eyes inches from hers and staring intently. "Just like you knew exactly what was happening. How _did_ you manage that, by the way? You weren't supposed to, you know. Aurora is spiteful and cruel and jealous, you were no doubt supposed to want to kill yourself after ever getting romantically involved with Klaus."

She swallows.

"Except it didn't work." He frowns now. "Why is that?"

"I don't know," Cami whispers.

Lucien's eyes instantly focus on her again.

"Then _figure it out_ ," he bites out. " _Think_ , Cami. Think hard and fast with that quick mind of yours. Aurora's compulsion was flawless, you would have thought you wanted to kill yourself of your own volition, so why didn't you?"

She thinks back to that dreadful night, how she had woken up next to Klaus, how she'd smiled. How in the next moment she had felt that horrible inescapable urge to take her own life, only-

She'd recognised it. Just like how she had recognised it moments before, when she saw Klaus in her dream. The pull on her mind, the relentless pressure on her body to act. She knew she was under compulsion from that moment.

"I'd been compelled before, I knew the feeling," she breathes, suddenly understanding. "It's like a pressure on your mind, like-"

"Like a voice in your head that isn't your own," Lucien finishes for her.

When she looks up, he steps back, his expression unreadable.

Cami stares at him with wide eyes, still reeling from her realisation. "I knew I was under compulsion because I was able to recognise the feeling as compulsion. That was how I was able to work around it and drink Rebekah's blood first."

Lucien's lips curl up into a humourless smile.

"I suppose those months under Niklaus' compulsion were good for something at least."

She tenses.

"And now you're dead," he says, then tilts his head. "Or not. This doesn't look much like the afterlife, does it? Perhaps you'll become a vampire after all."

He grins with some real amusement now. His smile falls away when he sees the look on her face.

"Oh, don't look so glum. It's hardly the end of the world. If anything it might even be the beginning of a new one. End of an era and all that."

Cami feels slightly nauseous as he keeps up his flippant comments and some of her earlier fear comes rushing back. She should have known better than to think he might just be helpful. She's not sure how many more verbal attacks she can take.

"You'll be be better off this way anyway," Lucien says, lounging in one of the wooden pews and looking at the ceiling with a bored look on his face. "At least as a vampire you might actually stand a chance."

He turns to look at her, his eyes cold. None of this really matters to him, she knows that, but still his words echo in her head.

_Against vampires, humans always lose._

His mouth curls up into a cruel smile. "Don't say I never warned you."

 

 

 

Suddenly the door in the back of the church opens. Cami turns quickly, equal parts apprehensive and hopeful. The small door opens slowly, swinging inwards with a soft creaking noise. A dark-clad figure steps through. Dark hair, dressed like a priest who has seen better days.

It's her uncle.

Behind her Lucien seems to fade away as quickly as she forgets about his presence, every part of her focused on the man now standing before her.

Father Kieran's red-rimmed eyes find her almost instantly.

"Cami," he says, his deep voice just as she remembers and _oh, she's missed him_. She runs forward, heedless – or perhaps uncaring – of the fact that he might be yet another figment of her imagination. That he must most definitely not be real, because her uncle died over eighteen months ago. She's so tired of being scared that she'd rather take this moment than just wait for him to turn on her too.

Cami throws her arms around him and uncle Kieran slowly lifts his hands to rest on her back. He lets her hold him like that for a long moment and she almost dares to hope he might not be here to torment her. It doesn't last.

When he speaks, his voice is gruff next to her ear and she can feel his chest rumble with the sound.

"You always were stubborn," her uncle says. "It won't save you this time, you know. There is no escape."

She flinches. The cold, sinking feeling in her stomach grows stronger. _Not him too._

Slowly, but knowing she has no choice, Cami lets go of the man and steps back. He's not her real uncle, that much is clear. Father Kieran doesn't move. His eyes are dark and intense but she thinks she can detect a hint of disappointment too and that hurts more than she expected.

As she clenches her fist her fingers brush against raised scar tissue. The night her uncle became a vampire and died, he had come at her with a knife and licked her blood from the blade. She still has a small scar on the palm of her hand where her uncle had cut her that evening. It's healed properly, but the raised white tissue still serves as a reminder.

"Uncle Kieran?" She swallows heavily, but steels herself. There is no stopping these nightmares. Better to get it over with quickly. "What do you mean?"

"You said so yourself once," Uncle Kieran says, his deep voice so achingly familiar. "We're all going to die. We live in a city of monsters, Cami."

He steps closer. "Now the question is: are you going to become a monster too?"

Cami flinches again.

"I never wanted this," she says, her voice faltering. It's not a real answer.

Her uncle's look is almost pitying.

"He's a vampire, Cami. How else did you expect this was going to end?"

She has no real answer to that. She's tried to stay away from all the supernatural drama going on in the city, but between Klaus and Marcel and Davina she was sucked right back in. She told herself she was able to better help the humans and the people that mattered to her but the truth was that she'd grown attached. Ever since she refused to walk away like Vincent advised her to, she's known deep down that this was unlikely to end well for her.

Uncle Kieran seems about to say something more, but he never gets the chance before there is a glint of metal at his throat. It happens so fast that it takes Cami a second to realise what is going on when she sees red spreading down his chest. Dark red blood pours from a gaping wound under her uncle's chin as he falls to his knees.

She staggers backwards in horror.

Uncle Kieran's fingers follow her, reaching out to her in his last moments. His other hand claws at his throat and Cami knows what it's like, that terrible feeling of warm blood and not being able to breathe. Her own throat aches in sympathy.

Fearful, she raises her head slowly. Behind her uncle stands another familiar figure, his white robes covered in blood and with a horrible curved blade in his hand. Cami draws in a sharp breath.

Sean.

 

 

 

She's seen pictures of the massacre.

Her uncle had tried to keep them from her, likely knowing Cami had more than enough to feed her nightmares already, but she simply _had_ to know. Perhaps it had been morbid curiosity. Looking for some form of closure, for some explanation of this utterly senseless slaughter. So she had gone to the newspaper websites, she'd even asked to see the file the cops kept of the case. And eventually the images had been in her hands and she hadn't been able to sleep properly for weeks.

There had been blood. So much blood.

It had splattered the walls where her brother had cut through the main arteries and drenched the floor where the other seminary students had bled to death. It had been dripping down from the icons and staining the windows. It had covered Sean's white robes and his pale hands where he had fallen to the floor.

There had been ten bodies in the end. Nine innocent students and her brother, the murderer.

She knows why Uncle Kieran kept the pictures from her, just as she knows why he kept washing his hands almost compulsively in those first few days when she returned to New Orleans after the news. Even just holding the pictures in her hands made her feel as though she would never be able to rid herself of the blood entirely.

Her uncle had walked into the church just as Sean took his own life. Sometimes late at night when sleep doesn't come and the image of her brother's slashed throat floats up from where it has been seared into her memory, she wonders. If it had been her that walked into the church, could she have helped Sean? Talked him down from whatever had compelled him to orchestrate such a massacre?

It was only months later when her uncle died right in front of her eyes after trying to kill her that she realised there was nothing she could have done that would have helped her brother.

 

 

 

Sean stands in the middle of the church with red blood spreading across his robes.

There are bodies spread all throughout the church, from the wooden pews to the altar, and she knows that if she were to count there would be exactly nine. Nine dead seminary students and her brother, she remembers, staring at the grotesque scene before her. The bodies are lying precisely where the police tapes had later outlined their corpses' positions, right down to the red-haired gangly boy who had died with arms outstretched to the door.

Her chest burns as she almost forgets to breathe.

Sean lifts the blood-drenched blade to his throat, never taking his eyes off her and to her great horror she can feel her own hand moving too. Her fingers clench tightly around a curved blade and no matter what she does she can't uncurl them to drop the weapon. Her twin brother looks terrified, his green eyes wide and his breathing ragged and it is like looking into a mirror.

The same green eyes, the same nose, the same blade in both of their hands as trembling fingers put the sharp edge to their throat. There is blood on her hands already that isn't hers. She almost can't tell if she is staring at her brother or at an actual mirror.

Her body is moving against her will, a deadly blade at her throat and all she can do is beg for mercy in her head, praying that someone might hear. _No. No, not again, God please no_.

Her hand pulls back to gain momentum for the cut, the final slash to complete the picture of the massacre. She wants so desperately to at least close her eyes but even that freedom is denied her. Sean's eyes – her own green eyes – stare back at her. She's about to pull the blade to her throat again.

"Cami, don't- Please stop."

The familiar voice startles her and she looks away to the side before even realising she shouldn't be able to do so.

It's Klaus.

"Drop the blade," he is saying, his light-blue eyes intent on her face. "Please, Cami."

She feels his warm hand coming to rest on her trembling wrist, trying to gently prise the weapon from her and away from her throat. Slowly and while never taking her eyes from his, her fingers open one by one until finally, _finally_ , the horrifying blade clatters to the floor.

He closes his eyes briefly and exhales softly, a sigh of relief.

The clear sound of the blade hitting the floor seems to break whatever compulsion remained and her arms fall numbly down to her side, the warmth of Klaus' touch on her wrist already fading.

"Klaus?" she whispers, her voice nearly breaking.

"Camille."

His voice is stronger than hers and at the sound of it she feels some of the tension leave her body. The intensity of his eyes is familiar and she thinks she can see the corner of his mouth threatening to curl up into a pleased smile.

She throws her arms around him and he catches her weight as she leans into him, pressing close. The solid pressure of his body against hers feels real and she dares to hope. His arms come up almost naturally to hold her tight, one hand at the back of her neck tangled in her hair. He breathes in deeply and she closes her eyes.

"It's really you," she breathes, letting his scent fill her as she presses her face closer to his neck. The collar of his dark jacket brushes her cheek and if her breath tickles his skin, he doesn't show it. "You found me."

"Of course," he says softly, his accented voice close to her ear. "I will always find you, Camille."

She doubts he'll be able to miss the smile on her face as the corner of her lips brushes the bare skin at his neck.

He tightens his arms around her fractionally and she relaxes further into his embrace. The sheer relief of seeing him here – the real Klaus, not some phantom of her nightmares – is almost unreal.

 _Safe_. Even if they're still not yet out of trouble and even if he won't be able to protect her from all the horrors here, she feels so much better already in this moment due to the simple fact that she's no longer alone. Whatever comes next they can work their way through it together.

 

 

 

Klaus pulls back eventually, but holds on to her hand instead. He finds that he's reluctant to let go of her so soon after he finally found her again.

"We should get out of here. Freya performed a spell linking us together so I could wake you up."

She nods. "Where do we go?"

The church around them is strangely blurry, the details no longer as pronounced. The blood from the massacre has faded too, leaving the church more pristine than it has been in ages. Klaus suddenly realises he can't quite remember how he came in.

Then his eyes find the huge double doors, the entrance to the church. It might be a little too obvious, but he figures it's worth a try.

Striding over quickly, he has to drop Cami's hand to put both his palms flat against the doors and push. They refuse to give. Growling in frustration he tries again, but even with all his cumulative strength from over a thousand years of being a vampire, the doors won't budge.

Behind him, Cami flinches, and he immediately stops his assault on the doorway.

"There has to be a way out of here," he murmurs, looking around the church.

"Klaus, over there." Cami points to the small door that would lead up to the stairs to the attic.

He sees nothing special about the door, but then he's all too aware this is not his own dream and not his own mind. Cami might be able to see things he cannot.

She's already rushing over to try the door handle and he follows swiftly after. As he moves he sees something shift from the corner of his eye. For a moment he could swear he sees a face reflected in the gold-plated altar.

Unsettled, he pauses. It was a familiar face, but not one he expected to see in his life ever again. It is a face that only occasionally still haunts his dreams.

Meanwhile, Cami has reached the door. She tries the handle, but it won't turn. The door rattles in its hinges as she pushes against it. She sighs.

"It gets stuck sometimes," Cami says, right as he is about to tell her they can try another door. She fumbles with the door handle, leaning her weight so that it hangs better into the hinges. It doesn't seem to be getting very far, but then just as he puts a hand on her shoulder she gives a precise and controlled kick to the bottom of the door.

He hears a tiny _click_.

"Ah, there we go," she says satisfied, and swings open the door.

Klaus remembers how in the real St. Anne's church this door would lead to the small hallway leading up to the attic and the balcony where the organ once stood. There is none of that now. If there were any doubt this church is not real, this scene before them would be proof.

Beyond the door a wasteland stretches on.

Every direction away from the door is covered in a dull light-grey dust. There are other objects and shapes, some half covered by the dust, some too far away to see more than a general outline. He thinks he sees a gravestone some twenty-odd feet away, but it's impossible to read it properly and then the whole shape shimmers and becomes blurry.

Most objects are similarly indistinct, as if there is a slight blurring around the edges. As if they aren't real. Some shapes are moving, crawling around in the corner of his vision, but these are even harder to see than the objects and as soon as Klaus focuses his eyes on one of these shapes the movement ceases and they fade away into the surroundings.

A weakly pale sun shines down on them from their left. As they watch a small breeze carries some of the dust up into the air and when the light reflects off it and _glitters_ Klaus realises that it's no ordinary dust. It's silver.

This must be the link Freya's magic has made between their separate dreams, the bridge between their minds.

He could easily get lost here. It would be so simple to get distracted by the blurry indistinct shapes moving all around them. He doesn't need Freya to tell him what a bad idea that would be. He doubts they'll ever wake up again should they get lost now.

Klaus looks around carefully. He found his way to the church in a desperate rush, guided by his sister's magic and his need to find Cami. To find his way back will be more tricky, but it should be possible. He's sure he will recognise his own mind when he sees it.

Suddenly as he peers into the distance he spies trees. Though they are easily miles away, they are more distinct than most of the other shapes surrounding them and as he stares they become clearer. The scent of pines washes over him and he can almost hear the wind howling through the treetops.

He knows those woods. Instinctively he takes a step forward, then pauses and looks back.

Cami still stands by the door, hesitating. He realises she might not see the forest like he does but that's all right. He can lead her down to his own mind safely.

He won't let them get lost.

"This way, I would think," he says, extending his hand to her. "Let's go home."

She takes his hand.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's been a while since the last update but this fic has not been abandoned. Hope you enjoyed it so far and please bear with me for a while longer!


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